


Miss You So Bad

by Churbooseanon



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Polyamory, Separations, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:13:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Churbooseanon/pseuds/Churbooseanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The distance is straining their relationship, but the reunion is more than worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miss You So Bad

**Author's Note:**

> Someone made the mistake of mentioning wanting an AU involving York/Wash/North with one of them away on a business trip and how everyone would handle it, to the Simple Plan song Jetlag. I pounced.

“What time is it?”

Wash glanced toward the alarm clock and caught himself before reading off the time. That wasn't what York wanted, and they both knew it. If York just wanted the time he easily could have glanced at the clock on the cable box that he was obscuring from Wash's view as he flipped at maddening speed through all three hundred plus channels over and over again. He'd been at it for nearly an hour and Wash was just short of throwing his book at the back of York's head. The thing was, he understood why York was doing it, and it made him pity his lover more than it annoyed him. 

Still, they hadn't done the sensible thing and reset any of the clocks to North's time. Hastily Wash did the math in his head and sighed at what he came up with.

“Nearly six in the morning,” he answered, and tried to ignore the groan of frustration from York. What he couldn't ignore was the way that York went from perched on the end of the bed, remote in his hand, to a mass of far flung arms as he collapsed back on the mattress, narrowly missing Wash's legs in the sudden motion. 

“I hate this,” York declared needlessly. “How much longer?”

“Three days,” Wash provided immediately, ignoring the stab of pain in his chest at the thought of three more days like this. York must have felt something similar because while Wash watched he brought his legs up onto the bed and curled into as tight of a ball as someone built like York could manage. 

“He's not allowed to leave again.”

Wash wanted to agree, desperately, but they both knew it would never happen. Asking that of North would be racing across one of the lines they had all agreed never to cross. That they'd never give up things important to them for each other. It wasn't easy, but they'd get used to it. And if not that, they'd at least learn to handle it better. 

That didn't make this first time any easier. 

Wash might have even said that were it not for the familiar tone that made him toss his book halfway across the bed without a bookmark and had York on his feet as he fumbled for the remote he had just discarded. Thanks to the search—and York's frustrated decision to lunge for the television to turn it off by hand—Wash claimed the more comfortable of the two swivel chairs set up by the computer and he smiled triumphantly as he hit the accept button on the Skype notification. 

The video feed of North leaning on a marble counter, mug of coffee in hand, a window just over his right shoulder pouring in the soft pink light of false dawn started up moments before Wash notes their own webcam coming on. It gives him time to just bask in the sight of North's face, the faint smirk that forms on his lips as the sound—it always connected first—of York tripping over the corner of the bed reached him, and the faint echo of pain in his crystal blue eyes before North's grin is wider than ever. 

“Good morning,” North's rich, low voice greeted them as Wash noted their video feed went through, just in time for a shirtless York to plop down into the seat next to him. 

“It's nearly midnight here,” York corrected, and Wash frowned at the pain in his voice. That being said, he was glad it had been York to say it, not him. At least York only sounded hurt when he observed the time difference. The last time Wash had said it out loud they'd all winced at the bitterness in his tone. 

“Sorry. Haven't put my watch on yet,” North sighed, running a hand through his still sleep tousled hair. It wasn't surprising of course. So far as Wash could tell the first thing North did when he woke in the mornings was head into the kitchen of the small apartment they'd set him up in for his two week stay in Dubai and Skyped them over his morning coffee. It wasn't much, but it was something, and that mattered to all of them more than any could say. 

“Not a problem,” York smiled widely, and Wash couldn't help but smile as well as he saw the way North beamed at them. “We're just happy to see you. But I've got to ask, what's up with so early? We weren't expecting you for... two hours?”

“Early shoot,” North admitted, pausing to down more of his coffee before shaking his head. “The client wasn't happy with the proofs I returned yesterday afternoon so we're trying again with different light. I could have told him it wasn't going to get what he wanted, but...” North trailed off with the shrug that Wash recognized as the 'far be it from me to actually know something I'm only the professional' shrug he reserved for clients who spoke more than they listened. 

“That mean you might be done a bit earlier today?” Wash asked, hopeful. The last time North had gotten a few spare hours at a good time of day for York and Wash they'd had a little... celebration all their own, not to mention a far better conversation than what they snatched for themselves when North woke up and before he turned in for the night. 

“No. We've still got the original shoot to do too,” North groaned, his fingers coming up to the bridge of his nose to gently massage it. “But... That wasn't the only thing I wanted to mention.”

The drop in his tone, the slowing of his pace, the way he didn't look directly into the camera anymore, Wash knew before North had a chance to speak. York must have heard it too because Wash felt a hand catch his out of sight of their own webcam, and York's fingers squeezed his gently. 

“How much?” York asked for them both, because again he was the one with the better emotional control. 

“An extra week. I'm sorry.”

“It's okay,” Wash lied, keeping is voice light. “You do what you need to do. I'm going to see if I can't teach York how to make pasta tonight, so that should keep us entertained for a while.”

“Don't even tease,” North chided him, fondness in his voice and steel in his gaze. “I don't want to have to worry about him setting the apartment on fire.”

“No worries,” York smoothed, an easier smile on his face. “What Wash doesn't know is that I'm taking him out to that little Italian place tonight. Keep it secret for me?”

That earned them a wistful smile from North as he paused to drain more of his cup. “Sounds lovely. Make sure you get Wash a piece of tiramisu. You know what a sucker he is for it.”

“I will,” York insisted, his voice soft and were it not for the tight grip York had on his hand, Wash would have pushed away from the desk, maybe started to yell at them both for being so calm because this wasn't what any of them had signed up for. 

They were so composed, so calm, so strong and he hated it. Hated how he couldn't be the same thing for them. 

Wash forced himself to smile, to focus on the conversation, and share in the meaningless chitchat and general warmth of North's smile. It was all he had other than the anchoring grip on his hand. 

They only got ten minutes to talk before North begged off to get ready for his day. 

He supposed it was better than nothing.

* * * * * *

“Woah, they're cute. Who are they?”

North couldn't help but recoil at the question, quickly looking at the small woman who had popped up at his side when he hadn't been paying attention. Sure enough he found the young model that had been arranged for the current shoot at his elbow, looking over his arm at the picture in his wallet. Part of him screamed to snap the wallet closed, stuff it in his pocket and just order her back to work. 

Instead he smiled fondly down at the picture of himself looking resigned as York pulled Wash into a headlock while smiling casually at the camera. Wash, for what it was worth, had his hands frozen halfway to York's stomach, already hellbent on initiating a tickling that North remembered sending them both to the ground in a fit of giggles and writhing limbs. South had groaned over the whole thing and in the end North had been forced to physically separate them and punctuate the threat by threatening no sex for a month.

Ironically enough he seemed on a path to carry through, what with him entering his third week out of the country. 

“The idiot grinning at the camera about to get tickled is York. The other one is Wash.”

The young woman smiled up at him, her grin prompting him to explain further. “And...?”

“And,” he countered easily, “aren't you supposed to be doing a quick change right now?”

“And miss out on just what has Mister Hot Shot Photographer who hasn't hit on any of the girls staring so wistfully at his wallet? No way in the world am I doing that. I've got twenty Euro on you being gay, so if this is going to win me that...” 

“There's actually a bet on my sexuality?” North chuckled. York and Wash were going to love it when he told them that later today. Well, York was probably going to start making snarky remarks about how that was probably a question up for debate, and Wash would start smacking him and North would have to sit there and ache as he watched them together and wished desperately hard that he was home already.

Only five more days. 

Strange how the number didn't begin to lessen the ache in his chest. 

“Sometimes it gets boring doing this day in and day out. Honestly, flirting with the photographers is half the fun. And since you aren't rising to any of the bait...” she said, raising an eyebrow in a questioning fashion for just a moment—and promptly lowering it when North discreetly shook his head—before smiling widely at him. “Well, I've just got to ask, which one is your boyfriend? I'd put my money on the small blond. Looks cuddly.”

“He is,” North readily agreed, smiling fondly down at the picture again. 

“So he is your boyfriend?” 

“They both are,” North admitted as he snapped his wallet closed at last and stuffed it into his pocket. Let her stew on that. “Now get ready. I don't have all day.”

Except the small woman wasn't moving. She was staring up at him, incredulous because of his declaration. 

“Do they know they are dating the same guy?”

“I'd hope so,” North mused, trying to channel York to get the most humorous reaction out of this possible. It would be a good distraction. “It'd be awkward in bed if they both thought they had me to themselves. I worked so hard at teaching them to share too.”

The woman's brown eyes went huge, not to mention her grin, and with a giggle she ran off to the awaiting mass of prep people to share her discovery while they prepared her for the next set of shots. Which, of course, left North alone with nothing to do but wait. There was nothing he hated more about this whole thing than the waiting. At least back home York and Wash had each other, had all their things, had their jobs and their friends. Out here North was alone, and any moment he didn't fill with his work was dominated by thoughts of them. 

With a sigh and a glance back toward the model North gauged that he had at least three minutes to blow. He gave himself half a moment to think one last time of the pair waiting for him back in the apartment they had only just begun to get used to before he'd left before reaching for one of the secondary cameras he dragged with him to every shoot. Quickly he removed the lens cap, checked its settings carefully, and strode across the expanse of the rooftop location to get himself a clear shot at the city scape and ocean beyond. 

He blew nearly half a roll of film on shots of the city, the ocean, both together, the people far below, the cars on the streets, anything he could find that looked right for half a second. Nearly let himself get distracted enough to continue further into his actual film and was held back only by the cheerful shouts of the model beckoning him back over to the proper set up. 

Five more days, he reminded himself as he stowed his personal camera and took up the one already prepared for the job he was being paid to do. 

“How much longer until you head back to them?” she called to him before North was able to give her any instructions. 

He couldn't resist a glance at his watch. Not the full face that was set to the local time, but the small one at the bottom set to home. Nearing eight in the morning over there. Wash would already be off to work and York would be nursing the second mug of black coffee, one sugar and a drop of almond extract. 

His heart ached with the want to be there.

“Too long.”

Even a minute was far too long now.

* * * * * *

“We could fly out there,” York suggested. Wash, for what it was worth, didn't scoff at the suggestion. He just mumbled something unintelligible into York's shirt and snuggled in closer. “Wouldn't have to be there very long either.”

No response, but really it wasn't surprising. Wash was trying to sleep after all, and York... York was staring up at the ceiling through the dark of their room. He had been for a—a quick glance at the alarm clock, do the math, nine in the morning over there—whole hour, unable to sleep. Whether it was the chill in the air—he really should have made Wash curl up under the blankets rather than on top of them—or the still strange feeling of Wash's head resting surprisingly lightly on his chest, or just the fact that the bed didn't dip in at the middle toward North, something was keeping him up.

Maybe it was the fact that there was still another three days of this. Three miserable, unending, mind numbingly long days. 

At least they were certain of one thing at this point, though: absence did make the heart grow fonder. It also made the mind grow batty. The tempers grow a little frayed. And the sex life a shadow of what it had been before. 

Strange how it was the feel of North's body pressed against his, the familiar rise and fall of his chest, the very _smell_ of him that York missed the most. Missed more than the exquisite meals that North seemed to whip up at a moment's notice. Missed more than the easy warmth North had greeted him with whenever he got home. Missed more than movie nights or tickle fights or evenings with the three of them curled together on the couch reading—huge novels for Wash and North and something short and popular or maybe in the area of comic book for York. 

Honestly, York was pretty sure he deserved bonus points for the fact that he hadn't done anything crazy yet. Hadn't torn his hair out, hadn't quit his job and become a recluse, hadn't...

Hadn't thought about buying tickets out of the country when Wash didn't even have a passport so that he could steal their other lover just a little bit early. 

Alright, so maybe he was going mad. 

With a sigh York started the slow process of extracting himself from Wash without waking him. Another night it would have been easier. There had always been the buffer of North between them, and while North slept light, he fell asleep easily, so York had never felt bad about accidentally jostling him awake. Wash, though, he was a bit more of a problem. Still, in a few minutes but York found himself free of the other man and sneaking quietly from the bedroom, cellphone in hand. 

_Miss you_ , he texted as he made his way to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. If he wasn't going to be able to sleep, he might as well get some work done, and he only focused well with coffee in his system.

He hadn't been expecting anything, to be honest. North had told them during their late night—morning for him—conversation that he had a lot of work during the final few days of his trip. That he wouldn't be able to spare much time for them. That almost hurt worse than the fact that they hadn't seen him in so long.

_Miss you too now go to sleep_ , came back faster than York would have believed, and for a long minute while the coffee maker dripped he stared at his phone and the words from his distant lover. 

_Can't sleep_ , he sent off, smiling down at the little screen and imaging the annoyed eye roll that would have provoked from North had he been in the same room. 

_Did you try?_ The reply was almost immediate and York chuckled as he grabbed a coffee mug from the cabinet. 

_You know I did. Just don't know how to sleep without you wearing me out first._

He imagined the sigh, the lazy but warm smile, the easy chuckle that would follow it. If he closed his eyes he could see North leaning there, a bit further down the counter, his hair messy, those loose pants he wore to sleep doing nothing for his figure, but his chest being absolutely bare because that was just what Wash insisted on. 

Another low buzz from his cell phone and York tore his eyes open to gaze at the words, and then glare. 

_No coffee. Go back to Wash._

_You're not the boss of me. And I'm no where near the coffee maker_ , York defended himself before he pulled the carafe free and started to pour. 

_I can practically smell the caffeine from here,_ North insisted; could a text message insist things, because York was hearing those words in North's voice.

_Liar. I'll have you know that I'm cuddled up to our boyfriend right now._

_Now who's lying?_

_Says you._

_Says the fact that Wash hasn't stolen your phone. Go to bed, York._

_Honestly? Can't sleep without you here._

This time the response was a lot longer in the coming. York leaned against the counter, coffee mug in one hand, phone in the other, waiting silently for something more. Anything more. 

_I understand._

They were just words, just little pieces of text on a small screen, back lit into the darkness of the kitchen. But they hurt in a way that York couldn't explain. Hurt him deep down, and he could only imagine how much worse they had to be for North. After all, he at least had Wash. He wasn't alone. And that suddenly made him feel like shit. Disgusted with himself York poured his coffee down the sink, followed it almost immediately by the rest of the carafe. 

_Wash is calling me. I gotta go. Love you._

_And I you. Both of you. Desperately._

York forced a smile to his lips because the words meant so much and hurt so badly. Then he dropped his phone on the counter to put it out of reach, and shuffled off to the bedroom. North was alone and probably just as miserable as they were, maybe more. Really, York owed it to him to keep their younger lover together while they were apart. 

He hated himself for not realizing it until that moment.

* * * * * *

Maybe it was the fact that they were cuddled up together on the bed watching a terrible movie they never would have gotten away with indulging in if North had been home; North was insistent that they not watch Fifth Element for the hundredth time which neither York nor Wash really understood. Maybe it was the fact that they were trying to out shout each other on reciting their favorite lines, giggling insanely and turning into all sorts of elbows and tickles in an attempt to win. Maybe it was the fact that they weren't expecting him for another day, that they were supposed to pick him up from the airport, that they were trying so hard to get through the last day.

No matter what it was, neither York nor Wash heard the apartment door unlock. Neither of them heard the quiet, huffing laugh as North registered the clear hints that his lovers were watching that stupid movie again. Neither of them heard the bags slowly being moved just inside the apartment door or the camera equipment being carefully placed on the table by the door for later movement to the bedroom that had been claimed as North's office slash tiny studio. 

They didn't hear the door unlock or relock or the quiet approach of North. Didn't register the pleased chuckle as North paused in the bedroom door and smiled at the pair that he had somehow fallen for. 

“This again?”

They definitely heard the question though. 

York and Wash didn't question their good fortune or the surprise or anything really. They became a blur of motion that North hadn't quite been prepared for. He had just enough time to uncross his arms before York was literally jumping into his arms, and not enough time to prepare himself to keep from staggering back into the door frame. He recovered quickly though, despite all the kisses York was pressing on his lips, his jaw, his throat, and carefully shifted his grip under the legs that were wrapped tightly around his waist. To be honest, he hadn't realized that York could pull off a jump like that, but he guessed he should have expected it. 

“You asshole,” York was growling between kisses. “Fucking asshole. Should have told us.”

“And ruin the surprise?” North chuckled as York's kisses grew more frantic and focused more heavily on his neck. There were going to be marks in the morning, and North couldn't find it in him to care less. 

“He missed you,” Wash admitted as he approached more slowly, and North smiled down at him as one of Wash's hands gripped tightly at his shirt. Wash smiled up at him widely, half wishing he could have taken York's place, but the television had needed to be off for what they had been planning for North's return, and lord knew they couldn't rely on York to remember that part of what they'd been discussing what felt like minutes ago. 

“Looks like you did too. It's okay. I missed you both,” North chuckled, following the gentle and yet insistent tugging on his shirt. He already knew where it was going to take him, but the other two seemed so intent on what they were doing that he wasn't going to take that from them. 

He did tense, though, as Wash got him to the bed and pushed just enough to send his already off center balance completely out of whack. York giggled, actually giggled, in pleasure as they fell together to the mattress, and North couldn't help but spare a chuckle of his own. 

“Wash, you got the stuff?” York asked as his legs and arms unwound from North. 

“What, we're not going to take this slow?”

The dirty looks Wash and York shot him were actually pretty impressive. 

“No,” the two declared at the same time and North just let himself be pinned while Wash disappeared from sight. 

“You two are up to something,” North observed, and earned himself a low chuckle. 

“You think?” York smiled widely. “It's a good thing we went out and got these a few days ago.”

“These?”

North's eyes went wide as Wash reappeared, a pair of padded cuffs connected by a length of chain in his hands. His gaze flicked rapidly between Wash and York and the cuffs, and the two of them looked so pleased with themselves that he couldn't help but groan. 

“This your way of saying I'm not allowed to leave any more?”

“No,” York admitted. “We both know you'll come and go as you need to. I guess you could say this is just our way of making sure you come without going anywhere.”

North groaned again, this time from the terrible pun rather than from arousal. Still, Wash was climbing onto the bed now, cuffs in tow, with a hungry look in his eyes that brought it right back around to arousal. 

“And here's the best part,” York chuckled, leaning down to whisper in North's ear. “Wash says he gets first ride.”

North scrunched his brow at the statement, fought off the tremble of pleasure at the whisper so close to his ear, and tried to figure out just what made what York was saying any different from normal. He and York had long since decided to see to Wash's needs over theirs as a rule. The noises he made were just too amazing, too arousing, for either of them to pass up on. 

“Honestly, North, I sort of envy you. I was hoping I would get to be his first time, but I can understand the decision...” York continued, his fingers slowly moving down between them to work the buttons of North's shirt. 

First time? But Wash had been with them...

“Oh fuck,” North moaned as the meaning finally hit him, his hips bucking hard enough to actually move York a bit as he felt the first cuff close around his wrist and heard a pleased chuckle from Wash. “Here? Now?”

“Here,” York agreed, his nimble fingers working the buttons of North's shirt until it was open. Then his weight was gone from North, his hands moving instead to North's hips to readjust him on the bed so Wash could thread the cuffs through one of the spindles at the head of the bed frame. “Now. And we've got a little bet going on as well...”

Of _course_ they did. There were always bets going on in their relationship. 

“What this time?” North swallowed hard as he let his other arm be guided over his head by Wash. 

“He's worried he's not going to be able to finish you off, what with it being his first time and all. But I've got faith in our lover. I think he's going to leave you both so spent that I'm going to have to take myself in hand. I'm really looking forward to this no matter how it turns out, but we've got a fifty on it, so please, North, don't let me down.”

North experimentally pulled at the cuffs and found himself blissfully unable to move his arms. That, coupled with the hungry, if nervous, look on Wash's face, made him smile back up at York.

“You have to use your fifty to buy me dinner.”

“Deal,” York agreed and North groaned as the man, and his hands, trailed down the sides of his body. 

If this was how his lovers were going to treat him when he came back from a trip, North resolved to take plenty of day trips in the near future.

York's fingers were on his belt when Wash finally leaned in for a kiss, a long one that deepened in seconds and pressed hard against him and found North trying to lean off the bed when Wash pulled away, not that he could get very far. With a resigned sigh he fell back to the mattress and offered Wash a gentle glare while the younger man smiled down at him. He was so intent on the look on Wash's face that he didn't notice York's still busy hands until he felt the button come undone on his pants. 

“How long have you two been planning this?” North groaned as York slowly pulled down his zipper and the brief, fleeting friction against his trapped erection was amazing. 

“Days,” Wash admitted, shifting and North swallowed back a gasp as Wash's lips found a place on his neck that had already been bruised from York's earlier attention. 

“Shouldn't leave you two alone to think,” North hissed a moment later as he felt York tugging off his pants. Damn he was thankful he had shed his shoes at the door. “Or talk.”

“Yeah, but it's so much _fun_ when Wash starts thinking,” York teased, and for half a moment there were lips pressed against the side of North knee and damn that was nice. “He's really an evil genius if you ask me. And here I thought we were going to be the ones to corrupt _him_.”

“No one could be more corrupt than you,” North sighed as Wash's lips worked one of his nipples. 

“You say that now,” York chuckled as the pants were finally gone. “Oh, Wash, look what North has for us.”

“When I'm free, York,” North growled, and then he was bucking into the firm press of Wash's palm against his erection. It would have been better, so much better, if York hadn't been an ass and had taken off all of his clothes. Then again he shouldn't have been surprised. He _was_ still in his shirt in a way, though it had been laid open for apparently Wash's enjoyment. 

“Socks on or off?” York asked next, and North glared down at the man positioned between his legs, grinning like a madman. 

“Off,” North insisted.

“On,” Wash chuckled. “He hates it when we do that.”

“So he does,” York agreed with a laugh. “Anyway, looks like my job here is done.”

“Hold him down for me?” Wash asked, his voice low and thick and North loved how the words were growled into the skin just above his belly button before Wash ran his tongue from that point all the way up his body, stopping just short of his collar bone. 

“As soon as I get these clothes off,” York agreed, but North barely heard it because Wash's teeth were nipping lightly along his collarbone and his fingers were skirting the edge of his underwear in a frustrating way that made North want to tangle his fingers in Wash's hair and haul him close for a kiss. Except he couldn't. Again he tested the restraints and groaned in frustration as Wash chuckled against his neck.

“You have fun in Dubai?” Wash asked, his voice somehow level and conversational and North couldn't quite figure out how he was managing that while his fingers finally slipped below the barrier of cloth and teased an outline around his straining erection without ever actually _touching_ it. 

“Not as much fun as I'm having now,” North admitted, twisting his hips to try and press himself against Wash's fingers. All he got was the fingers disappearing, moving instead to slide down his thigh. 

“Not as much fun as you're going to have,” York called from somewhere else in the room and North wished he was here, on the bed, forcing Wash to be more direct. Which was really a pipe dream and North knew it because York was the biggest tease of the three of them. Though Wash was quickly ascending to new levels as his hands pulled off of North's body entirely. 

“You're both in so much trouble once I'm free,” North insisted, but he quickly forgot the threat as his eyes caught sight of Wash stripping next to him. Geez he'd forgotten just how much more toned Wash was than either of them. 

“Maybe, but that isn't going to be for a while,” York responded, and North processed that the voice was far closer before he felt hands holding his ankles down. 

“Is that really necessary?”

“What Wash wants, Wash gets,” York laughed, and North moaned in agreement as Wash's hand palmed him through his boxer briefs again. Then, suddenly, there was a firm grip on the fabric, a quick motion and North's hips pressed up as Wash's tongue flicked over the tip of his suddenly free erection. Damn the heat, the moisture, the pressure it was all a heady sensation that he was certain he could get drunk on. 

“Maybe not the best idea, Wash,” York's voice observed distantly as North closed his eyes and choked back a moan as strong hands pressed his hips firmly against the bed and a full, wonderful mouth closed over him. 

“Mmmm?” Wash questioned in a low hum with his beautiful lips wrapped tightly around North's cock. The vibrations did amazing things to the skin and North hissed in pleasure. 

“He hasn't had one of us to touch him in _weeks._ Don't want to over do it if you're really serious about what you want to do.”

“Right,” Wash chuckled as he pulled free and North wanted to curse York to hell and back for the observation. Not that he disagreed. He just wanted more of the feeling of those lips around him, that tongue sliding around him, the sweet wet heat of Wash's mouth. “You have everything we need?”

North let his eyes open and caught the sight of a small plastic bottle flying into Wash's raised hand. He must have been staring at it with something in his expression because of the way Wash smiled down at him in amusement. Damn that was a good look on him. How had it taken them so long to convince Wash to do this? He looked so amazing leaning over him as he snapped the cap open and let some of what North knew would be cool liquid drizzle out over his fingers. 

“You mind?” Wash asked, his eyes flicking toward the foot of the bed and North followed his gaze in time to see the predatory look on York's face as his fingers curled around North's underwear and tugged them down his legs. 

“Shit,” North gasped, then bit his lip. They were getting to him so much easier than they normally did. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was normally filling York's current role and Wash was in his place. No matter what it was, though, he sighed as Wash's fingers, slick and cool, slid between his legs to start teasing at him. And teasing was the right choice of word, because those fingers were slowly circling, the slight presses against him brief and frustrating. 

“Just do it already,” North insisted, and he was shocked to hear the hard rasping need in his own voice. “Dammit Wash, just do...”

He didn't get to finish the admonition, because Wash had apparently already taken it to heart and dear god the twin sensations of ache and being filled. North found himself given just enough time to breathe and recover from the almost sudden intrusion and then the slick finger was moving. Slowly at first, a gentle motion that was simply motion for the sake of it. Then faster, with Wash's finger curling a little at the end, and falling just short of deep enough in a way that North was pretty certain was deliberate. Finally there, a brief burst of pleasure as Wash's finger found and curled against the sweet spot before the finger was gone entirely and North moaned for the loss. 

“More reactive than normal,” York observed for them all, and North flipped him off, delighted by the amusement that kindled in his lover's expression. “Yeah, I would, but Wash is just so excited about this...”

“When I'm free...” North started to repeat, only to trail off as Wash's finger returned, this time accompanied by a second. 

“You keep saying that, and yet I don't feel threatened at all,” York observed as North tried to thrust against those fingers that were slowly scissoring him open. Fuck Wash was better with his hands than North had expected. Part of him wondered whether Wash had practiced on York while he was gone, and then didn't wonder anything at all as those fingers found that place in him again. 

How was he supposed to have anything resembling coherent thought when he was struggling against his restraints, hissing in pleasure as Wash's fingers seemed to keep finding that spot with unerring ease. Another breath, shuddering and almost cut off entirely by a perfectly timed thrust of fingers, and there was a third there, and all North could do was close his eyes, tilt his head back, and hold on. 

“Now?”

The way Wash asked it, a low whisper filled with desire, was almost as arousing as the fingers he had in North, curling against that spot. 

“Now,” York agreed, and North let himself moan as the weight on the bed shifted before he was left empty and aching. 

“You ready for this?” York asked next, his voice up near North's ear, and when he opened his eyes he saw York smiling softly down at him, genuinely seeking a response. 

“Yeah. More than,” North admitted, and he watched York's eyes flick toward his aching erection and smile lecherously. 

“You have no clue how much I want to be in his position. Or, hell, just to be blowing you right now,” York added, voice falling far short of the conversational he was clearly aiming for and Wash had pulled off to effortlessly earlier. “Sorry about that, North. It's just, you know, there's the _bet_ and all that...”

“Hate you,” North gasped as his eyes moved to Wash settling himself between his legs, tried not to move as strong hands wrapped around his hips to lift him up from the bed a bit. Now there was a sight he had never thought to see. The concentration on Wash's face was just beautiful.

“That's my line,” York laughed, leaning in to seize North's lips in a searingly hot kiss that was a beautiful distraction until he felt the tip of Wash's cock press up against him. Then they were just an annoyance that he wanted to jerk away from and couldn't because one of York's hands was in his hair, forcing him to stay still, and the other was hooking around his leg and pulling it up so Wash had an easier time.

A moment of pressure punctuated by a low, hissing groan from Wash and a welcome ache for North. At last York's lips pulled away from his and North moaned as he looked down at Wash, reveled in the bruising grip of fingers on his hips, and he managed to resist the urge to try and push further onto Wash. 

“You okay there, Wash?” North gasped out, and immediately Wash was meeting his gaze, a beatific smile on his lips. 

“I'm supposed to be asking you that,” Wash answered, his voice quavering and weak. 

“You've been pretty quiet this whole time. Just making s... Oh god.”

A slight roll of Wash's hips and North's eyes were slammed shut again as he held his breath and adjusted to the way Wash filled him so wonderfully, so fully. His mind scrabbled for something, struggled to remember this moment in every last detail he could, because he'd never get another first time. As much as he didn't want to North forced his eyes open, gazed longingly down at Wash and he held back another moan at the sight Wash presented. The way he was bowed over North's body, his head tilted down and his mouth just barely opened in a faint pant was probably one of the most amazing things North had ever seen before. 

“Beautiful,” York breathed at his side, and North nodded as best he could in agreement.

Then he swallowed hard, tried to steel himself for what was next, and gasped a terse order. “Move.”

That seemed to have been all Wash was waiting for because he did, without hesitation. A small withdrawal followed by a more immediate thrust forward that North tried to move his hips up to meet. Again, this time more out, harder in. Again. Again and damn if Wash hadn't lifted his hips up in just the right way to slam home against that spot deep inside North that made him mewl and drew a pleased chuckle from York. 

After that it was motion. More than North could break down into constituent parts. Thrusts that were deep and fast and harder than York ever allowed himself, which only made them better. A hand that managed to fumble its way up to fist his cock, matching Wash's pace with no chance for North to breathe. North wanted nothing more than to tangle his hands in the sheets, and instead he just clenched and unclenched his fists and strained against the cuffs and tried to catch as many of the sounds that wanted to bubble out of him as possible. 

He let Wash's name slip from his control as he came though, shouted it with all the restrained force of every cry he'd held on to. Mumbled it over and over as Wash's hand worked him through his orgasm, still pumping him in time with those thrusts that hadn't given him a chance to breathe. Let the name fall as a plea and a reassurance before the hand was gone from him, back on his hips with a painful grip as Wash's motions became more frantic and his own name came from Wash's mouth like a prayer and he could feel the other man's cock twitching inside of him with the force of Wash's own orgasm. 

Repeated it as Wash collapsed forward on him, seeming not to care at all about the mess that had been made of North's stomach. 

“Damn,” York's voice gasped from the side and wearily North turned his head to look at their other lover. He couldn't help but smile at the look on York's face, the way his hand was fisted around his own erection and working it with a will. “I could watch that forever.”

“He owes you,” North panted out as he felt Wash's tongue flick out to taste the rapidly cooling mess on his stomach. “I think it was worth at least a hundred but...”

“Worth hell of a lot more than that,” York agreed, and North wished his hands were free to help York. 

“Fuck you both,” Wash groaned as he slowly pushed himself back up and pulled himself from North.

“Half way there,” York observed. “And trust me, I intend to make you finish up later tonight.”

“Gotta work in the morning,” Wash moaned as he rolled to lay down on North's side. 

“Naw, I'll call us both off,” York insisted, and North watched hungrily as York's hips moved in counterpoint to his hand. How in the world was York able to keep talking while he was doing that to himself?

“I could help with that if you would just let me go,” North offered, tugging at his restraints to punctuate his point. 

“I like you like this,” Wash purred, and North hissed at the way his sensitive skin trembled as Wash's arm stretched across him toward York. York, clearly seeing the motion, quickly scooted forward so he'd be well within Wash's reach. Soon North was treated to the sight of Wash's hand working York's erection with more concentrated speed than York had given himself. “Can't run away from us.”

“It's like having our own toy waiting for us,” York gasped as North watched Wash flick his thumb over York's leaking slit. Fuck that was arousing. Even as spent as he was he could feel his body reacting to the sight. 

“You're not letting me free of this anytime soon, are you?” North sighed as he watched, unable to tear his eyes from York. 

“No,” York gasped, his hips thrusting against Wash's tight grip with growing speed. “Fuck no. Never. Shit. Wash...”

North hissed his annoyance as there was new warmth spurting across his stomach.

“You better clean this up,” North sighed when York was spent and bonelessly collapsed on his other side. 

“Soon,” Wash promised, his voice filled with contentment and fatigue. “Once I can move.”

“Before that,” York corrected. “By the time you can move I intend to be stretched out next to North here and make him watch while you take me.”

“Sounds good,” Wash agreed and North was torn between a groan of annoyance and a chuckle of amusement as his lovers settled in on either side of them, Wash's head resting on his chest and York nuzzling in against his neck just like they always did when they slept. 

“Welcome home,” he said at last, unable and unwilling to keep the fondness out of his voice. 

“All welcome home parties will be celebrated in this fashion in the future,” York promised sleepily against his neck. Wash just nodded weakly. 

North chuckled before closing his own eyes. Cleanup really could wait. All he wanted right now was the press of their bodies against his. God he had missed that. Missed this. Missed them and everything that entailed.

It was nice to be home.


End file.
